


The last stand

by MelindaCoulson4



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 5x21, Best Friends, Drama, F/M, Friendship/Love, Locked In, Love Confessions, Trapped in a cell with nothing to do but face each other, promo pics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 10:19:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14590899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelindaCoulson4/pseuds/MelindaCoulson4
Summary: Phil & Melinda are alone and locked up by Talbot. They’re finally forced to face everything they’ve been pushing aside. Picks up right at the end of 5x20. Inspired by the promo pics for 5x21.





	The last stand

**Author's Note:**

> This better be their moment or I'm going to be really disappointed. I wrote this just in case we don't get what we want

They're led down seemingly endless hallways. Their journey is filled with silence except for the rhythmic pounding of boots against metal flooring as they walk. She tries keeping a mental note of each turn they make, but everything around here looks the same. Five of Qovas's men are at the front of the group and five are in back. Two follow along on either side of her, tightly gripping each of her arms. The same goes for Phil. It's not like they can go anywhere. The cuffs linking her wrists together are clunky and seemingly unbreakable. She tried tugging at them, working at the binding for the first 4 minutes of their journey until she'd realized there was no way she'd be able to get them off. And even if they somehow escaped and broke free of the restraints they would never make it to the zephyr without weapons or backup.   
  
By now she's accepted that they aren't going to be able to fight their way out of this one. Out of the corner of her eye she spots Phil staring at her, steadily watching everything she does. She can't bring herself to look at him. In any other case she would. If this was a regular mission they would already be formulating a plan with no other form of communication but eye movements. However, this is anything but a regular mission and the events that have led them to this moment could have just drastically changed their future.  
  
Shame is all she feels now. She and Daisy had come aboard this ship so confidently, ready to knock out all of the space travelers and grab Phil and Talbot. It was going to be an easy in and out. Neither one of them had been prepared for Talbot to be so consumed by his new powers- for him to be as powerful as he is and using those powers against shield.   
  
Daisy had tried to put up a fight but she was no match for the gravitonium inside of Talbot. He'd flung her against the wall like a rag doll with a swipe of his fingers. And then, running on an automatic instinct to protect Daisy, Melinda had gripped her gun and stepped in front of Daisy's limp form, pointing the weapon at Talbot. It would've been so easy to squeeze the trigger and send two bullets into his chest, but he'd called her out before she could act. Automatically, he’d threatened Phil's life if she put up a fight. And by doing that, he'd already gained control of the situation. There was a gleam in his eye that told her he knew exactly how she'd respond to that threat. Right then he knew he'd already won, but she'd held the gun steady continuing to point it at his chest.

_"Fire that weapon Agent May and Coulson dies just like Hale."_

Her mind conjured up images of Hale's body crumpling like a piece of paper only moments before. The thought of that happening to Phil made her physically ill. Her palms began to sweat and her mind screamed at her to drop the gun. But the instinct to fight was still in her. She'd almost wanted to challenge Talbot. Would he really kill Phil with a flick of his wrist? Phil ,who had only days ago rescued Talbot from his Hydra imprisonment.   
  
That was a gamble she'd never be able to accept. Talbot had lost his mind and she wasn't willing to bet Phil's life on anything.   
  
Talbot had come at her again, daring her to challenge him. "Do you surrender Agent May?"  
  
It was the question that everyone already knew the answer to. Phil was her weakness. Talbot knew her well enough to use that to his advantage.   
  
She'd peaked at Phil. Sweat glistened off of his neck and chest. He met her eyes with eerie confidence. Brows crunched together, confused as to why she hadn't acted yet. Unbelievably, she'd realized that he was silently telling her to do it. To shoot Talbot.   
  
His lips parted as he prepared to speak. She already knew what he would say. _Just do it, May. Take the shot.  
_  
It struck her heart like an arrow dipped in acid. That he was willing to sacrifice himself again. Well, she wasn't and never would be. Her fingers lifted away from the gun then tightened back around it again in a moment of self-doubt. The instinct to save the world told her to just take the risk and squeeze the trigger before Talbot could even blink, but her instinct to protect Phil froze her in place again.   
  
After one last second of hesitation she'd pulled her hands apart and lifted the gun, pointing it away from Talbot, surrendering to him.   
  
_So much for a rescue party._    
  
It's her fault that they're in this mess. She'd been so focused on busting in on the alien invaders as soon as possible that she never stopped to even consider that Talbot had turned against them. That he was the one calling the shots and he had lost sight of their agenda. Instead of making decisions for the greater good he was consumed by his need for control and power over others. The gravitonium had infected his mind, maybe even physically changed him. She'd seen first-hand how Ruby had lost her mind and she'd only had a small portion infused into her body.   
  
The situation had gotten out of control. Phil had most likely tried to reason with Talbot before they arrived. Then, she and Daisy had tried. But they all failed.    
  
Now she and Phil are being led elsewhere and Daisy is alone and at the mercy of Talbot and the rest of the alien alliance. All prisoners of this intergalactic war that they're seemingly destined to lose.  
  
The masked creatures in front of them stop at a door and input a code on an electronic panel along the wall. The door slides open, revealing a poorly lit room with metal walls and flooring. It's small and empty with a continuous bench built into the perimeter of the wall. Big enough for prisoners to sleep on if need be.   
  
Anxiety bubbles in her throat. Talbot now definitively knows how to get what he wants from her, that's why they're being kept alive. In case he deems them useful later on.   
  
The henchmen unlock their binded wrists and push Phil into the room first. He manages to stumble his way down the two steps and into their cell without falling. Large hands hit into her back and send her sprawling down the steps and into the nearest wall. Her palms slam into the metal paneling as she braces herself, protecting her face from smashing into it.   
  
The sound of the door sliding across the floor again and clicking into place signals that they've been sealed into this room. It's become all too real now. They're at the mercy of the enemy and all they can do is wait together in this cramped room.   
  
"Are you hurt?" He asks as his fingertips lightly brush against her jacket sleeve, then fall away just as quickly.   
  
"No." Turning around, she stares at him with concern clouding her features, unsure what Talbot would've done to him before she came aboard. "Are you?" She runs her eyes up and down his body, checking for any signs of injury but he appears unharmed. Knowing how he's been acting lately, he probably wouldn't tell her even if he was hurt.  
  
"Nope." His answer comes out short and clipped, she detects annoyance brewing within him.   
  
"You shouldn't have come here, Melinda," he says with a slight shake of his head.   
  
Anger flares up inside of her. She's so sick of this isolation that he insists upon. How he recently has decided that he has to do everything on his own.    
  
Her eyes narrow. "Right, because you had the situation under your control. I could tell," she responds, sarcasm lacing her tone.   
  
"I was handling it," he argues. The muscles in his jaw pulse and tighten.   
  
Like _hell_ he was handling it. Talbot somehow went from being their ally to deeming shield as enemy number one within an hour's time. When she and Daisy ran into that room Phil had been floating midair because Talbot had already lost his trust in shield. He believed they were coming to take him down, so he used Phil as leverage.   
  
Being suspended twenty feet off the ground with your former colleague literally holding your life in his hand seemed like the polar opposite of someone who was "handling it".   
  
Instinctively, her mouth drops open as words like foolish, reckless, and idiotic zip to the forefront of her mind, but she controls herself and presses her lips together before she explodes with anger. Her teeth bite down on her tongue to keep herself from yelling at him.   
  
It doesn't take long for them to go at each other's throats. It's this unavoidable urge that seems to happen to them now anytime they come within 10 feet of each other. The fighting. Every interaction they have had within the last few weeks has winded up ending in an argument.   
  
The two of them seem to be made of the same sturdy material, repeatedly smashing into one another with emotions flying every which way. Yet, neither one is willing to budge. She won't let him go and he won't agree to fight for his life.   
  
Her patience was one of the first things to go after dealing with his lies and deception in the beginning. Then his recklessness and foolish decision making had started. She's tired of it all.   
  
Honestly, she's pissed right now and is barely able to contain it.   
  
She breathes in deeply through her nose, filling her lungs up slowly and holds the air in for a bit. Looking up at the ceiling, she tries collecting herself, then blows all of the air out through her mouth. The thing that bothers her the most is that he knows exactly how she feels about him, but continues to act like it would be the easiest thing in the world for her to give up hope and let him die. He expects her to cut him out of her life and walk away unscathed is if it was as easy as cutting a rogue string from a t-shirt.   
  
"You should've taken the shot," he berates her; the volume of his voice noticeably rises.   
  
Her fingers tighten into fists at her sides as she clenches her teeth together to keep from telling him to go fuck himself. Her eyes dart to the corner of the room, focusing on a pile of dust that has gathered on the floor. Anything was better to look at right now than him.   
  
"Don't start this again," she warns, crinkling her nose at the slight burning sensation as she holds her tears at bay. She's on the verge of exploding and breaking down at the same time. This pure disregard for his life is making her blood boil. She won't let him shame her for this- for keeping him alive. How dare he even try.   
  
He crosses his arms in front of his chest as he steps closer to her, eliminating all personal space between them. "Apparently I have to. I guess nothing I tell you matters because you haven't listened to a damn thing I've said!"   
  
The same could be said for him. He's a hypocrite if he thinks she's the one in the wrong here.   
  
The problem is that she has listened. He's accepted his approaching death. She's completely aware of that fact. He's done nothing to avoid it; instead he's running head first into it. Volunteering to handle the blue light in the basement of the bunker was act number one. Willingly leaving the zephyr to go with Hale was foolish decision number two. The list goes on and on. There are endless stupid things that he's done with little regard for his life just because he knows that his time is running out. He's made it his mission to go out a hero. But, an unnecessary sacrifice isn't what they need. They need clear headed judgement, rational thinking- they need him to snap out of this.   
  
She needs him to be Phil again: optimistic, hopeful, positive outlook Phil Coulson.   
  
The man she loves.   
  
As long as there's blood pumping through her veins and oxygen in her lungs she'll keep fighting for him to live. No matter what it takes.   
  
"How was I supposed to take the shot? How do you expect me to just let you die?" She yells, exasperatedly, feeling her skin heat up all over. They're close, she could reach out and fist his cotton t-shirt in her hand. And better yet, push him against the wall so he can't run from this.   
  
They haven't been this close and alone since she revealed her true feelings. It makes her knees feel wobbly.   
  
He's about to speak, but she doesn't want to hear the excuses. Maybe he'll say if she truly loves him she has to let him go. Maybe he'll say his death is inevitable, but she refuses to believe that.   
  
"What if it was me? Would you just sit back and let me go?" She challenges, eyebrow raising, daring him to say yes.   
  
His mouth clamps shut and his eyes soften. For a moment they seem suspended in time together. She thinks he may step closer and finally break, but his eyes grow heavy with something she can't quite detect as his focus flickers elsewhere.  
  
She's backed him into a corner with the question. Maybe it’s unfair to put it all on him like this, but she desperately wants him to understand how she won't ever be able to give up on him. Talbot forced the fate of Phil's life into her hand, threatened to smash him into nothingness. The thought makes her throat close up as if a giant hand is wrapped around her neck, squeezing and crushing her under its force. If Phil could feel just a fraction of her emotional agony he would certainly stop expecting so much from her.  
  
At this point, all she can hope is that she's made some sort of impact on him.   
  
His body slumps down onto the bench behind him, the weight of their argument eliminating all of his strength, dragging him down. His shoulders sag dejectedly.   
  
Staring at him now, she realizes that he won't be responding anytime soon. His head hangs down as both of his palms cover his face with elbows resting on each of his thighs. This is what he does when he's beginning to shut down emotionally. When it's all too much to handle and he needs time to think.   
  
Feeling too keyed up with anger, she chooses to pace back and forth, while making sure to leave him adequate space to stew on his own. It's easy to get lost in her thoughts. The frustration, disappointment, and fear all swirl within her body. Her mother's tendency to carry all of her stress in her shoulders is making itself known as the same thing happens to her now. Her fingers apply pressure to the taut muscles there, but her efforts don't seem to make any impact. She'd rather be pummeling a punching bag in order to get this energy out. It's similar to what she thinks a wild animal is like when it's locked up: ready to pounce and lash out.   
  
The pacing seems to ease her frustrations minutely. All she can think about is Phil's callous words: _"You should've taken the shot."_ Her mind still can't wrap around the idea that Phil not only wanted but also expected her to risk it. It's exhausting, fighting with him when he's like this.   
  
She sighs and crosses her arms across her chest, desperate for some sort of comfort. Then she slides down onto the bench behind her, making sure to keep a few feet between herself and Phil. The cool metal wall against her back brings some relief to her heated body.   
  
Above all else she's feeling alone. Not only has Phil given up hope for his future, the team has too. Yo-Yo actually believes that it's destiny that he will die. That he has to or the world will be cracked apart. How could his death be so certainly linked to the destruction of the world?  
  
She refuses to believe that they can't change the future. Robin had said that Phil would bring all of the pieces together. So far, she hasn't seen that happen, which hopefully means they still have time left to change things.   
  
The only other person in her corner right now is Daisy who is most likely locked up in a similar style cell, at least she hopes so. The last time they'd seen her she was knocked unconscious. Talbot could've done any number of things to her already. Especially since Daisy was a threat to him.   
  
Everything has gotten so out of control.   
  
The powerlessness is overwhelming and uncomfortable. She'd never been able to deal with it. Ever since her childhood she'd preferred facing things head on. She'd rather fight and be beaten down than be immobilized and forced to watch everything unfold without a chance to do anything about it.   
  
Her boots catch on the edge of the bench as she brings her knees to her chest, curling in on herself. The palms of her hands grip the tight fabric on her knees as her arms wrap around her legs. She holds steady and keeps herself contained instead of doing what she truly wants, which is to strike her closed fists against the door to this prison cell until one of the aliens respond.   
  
That all too familiar tingling sensation at the back of her neck increases tenfold as she feels eyes burning a hole through her. Phil must be staring at her now.  
  
Is this what they're destined to do for the rest of their short lives? Stolen glances with no words.   
  
That's an unbearable fate.   
  
Her eyes flicker to the right. He's sitting up straighter now, but there's still an exhaustion to his posture. The strain on their relationship is taking a physical toll on him.   
  
Still, he watches her with an openness and understanding that she hasn't seen in him for a long time. The usual electric blue highlighting of his irises is now somewhat faded- from all of the burdens built up. Above everything she knows he's hurting- plagued with the responsibility of the job, to be the shield, while also dealing with their broken team. These days they’ve all been harder to handle than anything else.   
  
On top of that, the two of them have been off track. Every interaction has been laced with some sort of argument. They haven't had any real down time to discuss anything. Simmons had revealed that he was dying, Melinda reprimanded him for not sharing that information, then he left the room without another word. Hale had threatened them and he gave up also without discussing things over with her first, then he left with Hale. Deke was shot, she and Phil had talked, she'd snapped at him, spat that she loved him and stomped away. All have been small moments between them that have never resulted in any resolutions; their allotted time together has never been enough.   
  
Hell, she still feels like they have barely taken a breath since getting out of the framework. She still doesn't know much about the time she was missing. It may be a morose idea, yet she can't help but wonder what happened and what the lmd was like. And her deepest question that she'd never have the courage to ask: Did Phil prefer the lmd version of herself over the real thing?  
  
He'd shared their bottle of Haig with it. He'd said that things seemed real with it and the lmd was more supportive. At the time, she'd dismissed it as a joke, but now she isn't so sure anymore. Phil could never quite meet her eyes when they talked about it, which was a surefire sign that there was something that he was holding back.   
  
Their time is fleeting. She can't help but feel like she's losing him. It’s as though all she's been doing is grabbing at a block of ice that continues to quickly melt into a puddle of water. It can't be held onto no matter how hard she tries.   
  
One of his fingers drags along the seam of his jeans, a nervous tick that he probably doesn't even realize he's doing. "I'm tired, May. I'm so tired of all of this. My time is limited and all we do is fight," he admits tentatively.   
  
It's true. She's never felt so much distance between them. There's even more distance now than when she'd lied about Tahiti. At least then she knew with time he'd come to understand that everything she did was all for his protection. And even though he refused to look at her and snapped at anything she said she could learn to live with it. Because he was still alive. That's all that mattered. But now they're constantly at odds and his time is running out.   
  
So far, no leads had panned out. Daisy's mom was their last hope. Whatever Simmons could extract from Jiaying was Phil's only chance of getting through this. Perhaps right now, somewhere in their bunker Simmons was putting together a serum that would save him. It would most likely be a small tube with no more liquid in it than a small sip of water. They wouldn't know it's effectiveness until they tried. That’s if they even got the chance to do so. The reality is that he could die at any moment. And that's just too much to think about right now. She can't lose him. Not after everything they've been through.   
  
Not when she loves him more than anything.   
  
Her vision blurs with unshed tears. She subtly turns her head away from him, so he can't see her silent breakdown. The hair behind her ear falls with her movements, hiding her face from view.   
  
She could almost visualize an hourglass in the room with sand steadily pouring into the bottom section, the top nearly empty now, signaling the end of Phil.   
  
Tightness extends throughout her chest as her lungs refuse to fill. Desperately, she clenches her teeth together hoping to stop the approaching crying spell. Tears spread to the outer rim of her eyelids, catching on her lashes.   
  
Phil covers her hand with his own. Her shoulder twitches at the unexpected contact. His warm palm settles over the ridges of her knuckles as his fingers gently curl around her wrist. It's a signal that he's still here with her. The constant that she's relied on ever since her young adulthood- her friend. He hasn't gone anywhere.   
  
More wetness gathers in her eyes and teeters on the brink of falling.   
  
"I don't want to fight," she tells him, voice leaving her mouth no louder than a whisper. She wants to be with him. That's all she wants.   
  
"I don't either." The words come out weakly, difficult for him to get out.   
  
Deciding enough is enough; she blinks the tears away and turns to face him.   
  
He let's go of her hand, breaking their contact.  
  
Naturally, her back falls against the wall as she stretches her legs out, opening up to him bit by bit and silently begging him not to hurt her anymore than he already has.   
  
Her gaze flickers to his.   
  
Once again he seems to be waiting for her to take the lead.   
  
"I don't want to fight but...I can't take this. You're still running right into dangerous situations. You can't expect me to let you die. Talbot threatened to crumple your body into....nothing. How could you think I would let that happen?" Swallowing thickly, she continues, "that I would ever take that chance." The tight knot in her stomach twists.  
  
Wetness shines in his eyes. He looks down for a moment as if gathering strength. "You could've stopped him," he answers, voice coming out quiet and rough.   
  
He focuses back on her and she can tell that he's being truthful. That he truly believes she could've taken Talbot out without any adverse side effects.   
_  
How could he have that much faith in her abilities?_  
  
"No," she argues, cutting off his trail of thinking, refusing to entertain it. She really couldn't have stopped Talbot without someone else getting hurt. He probably would've killed everyone in that room if she fired her weapon.   
  
"Isn't it our responsibility to take that chance? To save the world?" He asks.  
  
"Risking your life for the possibility of eliminating Talbot…that doesn't solve the alien problem. That doesn't solve any problem," she tells him steadily. There were too many maybes and not enough definites. "It wasn't worth it. Not to me. If that's selfish then fine....I don't care." She still believes as a team they can prevent the destruction of the world. But she needs him to keep living. She needs him to be present and with her. By her side is exactly where he belongs. They've always worked best together. She knows they can solve this.  
  
Their heavy gaze stays locked as his mouth opens and closes repeatedly. It seems like that's all he can do lately.   
  
Surprisingly, she feels lighter and unafraid. She's given him everything, bared her soul and heart to him. Now it's up to him to respond.   
  
"You," he begins, then abruptly stops and flickers his eyes away. His posture becomes a little bit straighter as he pulls his shoulders up as if gaining confidence. "You leave me speechless," he confesses softly, eyebrows rising slightly in awe.   
  
A small, exasperated laugh forms in her throat. "I've noticed," she comments, the sides of her mouth twitching upwards.   
  
He responds with a small chuckle under his breath.   
  
The last of the wetness clears from her eyes as one tear rolls down her face. Her fingers flick the evidence of it away.   
  
Something seems to shift between them. The smirks fade from their faces as they once again hold each other's attention, gazes locked.   
  
They're on the brink of something, she can feel it.   
  
There's an acknowledgement of the ‘I love you’ that he never responded to as his eyes focus on her. Warmth is present within his previously faded and dull eyes.  
  
"I haven't forgotten about what you said," he tells her, resting a comforting hand on her leg, below the knee.   
  
It's like he's read her mind. She feels frozen, breath catching in her throat. She's waited so long for this.  
  
This is it. The moment things can change forever. He'll either let her down easy or tell her that he feels something for her too. The anticipation makes her all too aware of her heart pounding against her chest.  
  
"I want you to know that you mean everything to me. When I found out the truth. That Aida took you....I....I can't even describe. I was lost. Empty. I felt like a part of me was missing....even though that's totally cliché. It's the truth." He gently squeezes the hand he has against her leg, emphasizing how deeply he means what he's saying.   
  
It's not cliché. She knows exactly what he's talking about. Each time he's left or has been taken from her she's felt like someone has carved a piece of her soul away. It makes it harder to think clearly. It's much like she had told Robin: she's lost without him. The only thing that ultimately makes the feeling go away is when he comes back. When she wakes up in the morning and knows that she'll see him soon. That he'll walk into the kitchen to get coffee. Or she'll spot him having a conversation with Daisy. It doesn't matter what he's doing, as long as he's home. That he's with her.   
  
"I've loved you for so long and I got so used to hiding it that I couldn't tell you when you wanted to hear it," he explains.  
  
And finally she understands the reason for his hesitation. It's not that he didn't feel the same. It’s that he didn't know how to tell her.   
  
"I've wasted so much time. And now...." He trails off shaking his head in disappointment. His confidence fades as shame clouds his features.   
  
_We've run out of it_ , she silently adds. It's like a big cosmic joke at their expense. When the pieces have all fallen into place they have no time left.   
  
Trying desperately to be optimistic, she scoots closer to him and pushes off of the wall behind her. Their legs press together as she leans into him. His solid presence heats her up inside. Mere inches separate them now.   
  
She lifts her right hand and slowly touches his face, testing their boundaries. Her hand cups his jaw. "All that matters is right now," she whispers into the space between them. She'll be his strength now. Her thumb brushes back and forth across his chin. The stubble peppering his face scrapes against her soft fingertips. Puffs of hot breath blow against her cheek, she's so close to him now.   
  
He swallows and she can actually feel his throat bobbing against her hand. "I'm in love with you," he confesses, voice deep with desire. His pupils are blown wide as she watches his eyes drop to her lips. They dart between her mouth and her eyes, deciding how to proceed as he waits for her reaction.   
  
Relief makes its way through her body, spreading blissfully in response to his words. He loves her. _He_ _loves her_.   
  
She can't stay away, the ache inside is too strong. She needs him.  
  
Inching her face closer, she feels his breath against her mouth now, lips parted and ready for her. It's as if she's an open flame next to a candle wick, waiting to ignite it.   
  
The pull between them is strong; she's never felt something so powerful.  
  
Before she can take the final plunge, Phil makes the decision for them by sealing his mouth over hers. Her free hand reaches out to steady herself on his thigh.   
  
Their lips stay connected in a gentle fusion. It's soft and comforting, like coming home after being away for much too long. Finally they're doing this.   
  
He presses a little further against her making his nose brush her face. A tentative hand settles around her hip keeping her body close to his.   
  
Phil opens his mouth and tilts his head sucking at her lip.   
  
The hand that she has against his face slides down to his shoulder, clutching the material of his jacket between her fingers.   
  
She wants everything. After being denied for so many years she's ready for all distance to be eliminated between them. If they were in the bunker on their own time she would keep this going. But they don't have that luxury now. If they don't stop soon there will be a point of no return and she doesn't want that here in an alien prison. So she makes the decision to pull back even though that's the opposite of what she truly wants.   
  
Their lips release with an audible smack in the otherwise silent room. Neither one wants to move away, so she settles by resting her forehead against his. She keeps her eyes closed and steadily breathes, just reveling in being this near to Phil. The best part is being able to touch him just because she wants to. There doesn't have to be any excuse for her hand to continue gripping his jacket, just as he keeps his palm pressed against the side of her body.   
  
For the first time in a while she does something that she wants. She leans into him again and captures his lips, wanting to feel him against her. She loves him and he loves her. Nothing can stop them from being together right now, so she'll take this moment. It's a soft kiss; no more than a peck, but it satisfies her.   
  
As she pulls away, she whispers, "I love you."

This time it's not anger induced. It's laced with nothing but happiness and truth. 

 

_//end//_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave me something if you enjoyed :)


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